I’m the Best Psychologist in the World. Figured it best that we get that shit out of the way from the gate, so you can take whatever we discuss here as gospel. With regard to the human condition, I have to fall off of the cloud I am on, tumble, and descend to a space where most are to even begin to have the conversation about all of what we are seeing. Rather, the conversation about all that we have deceived ourselves about. And those, ultimately, are legion. We have been so profoundly dishonest about our nation, our narrative and…


I love battle rap. I believe that you could as well, were you to spend a bit more time with it. It gets in your blood if you do. I’ve been victim to it, wildly and gladly. I go days at a time wondering what battle rap would look like were it made ready for shared consumption, and less niche than it is. As frustratingly self-destructive and contrarian as the community and its artists may be, it remains an achingly pure and beautiful element of hip-hop culture. …


There won’t be an image for this one, not when I know that you have a number of images firmly and readily indexed. I truly hate that that has become our reality. I hate that we, and our children, and our neighbors, some who love and despise our lives in equal measure, have a ready memory deck of images, vivid and moving, of death and trauma being visited on Black bodies.

In this matter we aren’t powerless. Not at all. In this matter, the sharing of the recordings of trauma, and hunting and murder, we have agency. We do not…


He was always a villain, you know, Surely, you understood it in some way, and you have read many a tale from others, rather like him, wondering how they created such dark, rich antagonists, and heroes so pure and virtuous and frail. Surely, you wondered quietly, as you had retreated to him, and others like him, inside of yourself, often from a world round you that made you feel other, and profoundly Black and alien. Still, somewhere and somewhen, you knew. You felt that coiling bit of unease strike when you noticed how many of those characters were described as…


I can recall wanting to scream, that was first. I was quite in a rage, but was well across that bridge, somewhere between frustration and panic. I was breathing ever so shallow in that small human space where you know and live the feeling, but can’t quite find the words. I had, through lived and repeated experience, learned how to create a self at those times, divorced from that near rage and panic, and guided it through a performance to keep those around me safe, so I thought, and comforted, so I believed.

This was around 2003 or so. I…


I’ve heard the same complaints that you have. In all honesty, I’ve lodged a number of them myself. They typically sound something rather like hip-hop has lost its way, or is on its last legs, or the quality of the music and culture have fallen due to the taste and ability of the wayward children currently stewarding the art. We are, ultimately, rather proud snobs we elderly hip-hop heads.

This focus on quality, and substance, and integrity means that I don’t get to spend as much time with hip-hop as is good for my soul, and that the exile is…


It’s on fire, this system. And, ultimately, that is a good thing. That such an inferno continues to require the Blood of Black bodies as an accelerant is yet another of the indignities visited upon our community. It is another moving of the goalpost, and another means by which a system resets itself to mirror something resembling progress. It doesn’t mirror progress to promote it. This system stays crouched, to ensure that the progress is defended, that the flames only spread so far, and that they may be doused when the time comes.

But for now, fire. A good deal…


By now, so far into quarantining and physical distancing that your days are running together, you are beginning to see that this pandemic, this new and forever changed normal, is impacting you, and those around you, and neighbors from afar. You may have seen reference to the U.N. report on a looming global health crisis (Reuters, 05/14/2020), or come across Kaschak’s (2020) reference to “Post Pandemic Stress Disorder”, and wondered whether your own mental health and wellness are in question.

What we generally appear to agree upon is that a crisis is coming. It is here, in fact. Your questions…


“The Last Dance”, while billed as a sports documentary, and certainly being one, is something rather more fascinating as it is growing over its ten episodes.

See, it could have played it safe, and registered as as something akin to an ode or love letter to a brilliant, transcendent athlete, and a dynastic franchise, and a referendum on how the game and sports were never the same, and with six episodes remaining, it still has plenty of time to retreat to those sports documentary tropes. I don’t think it will though. Not at all.

What has been most fascinating in…


Classrooms, for Black children, are often laboratories for the most efficient means of crafting long standing trauma in the young.

See, its not the single, profound traumatic experience which often leaves the marks most indelible. No. It’s the thousand cuts, deepest, that do the work of impactfully traumatizing our children.

I still see now, in our children, everything that I saw when I was a Black child and student. I see the defensiveness, the brilliance in the face of various adversities, hypervigilance, mood disturbance, exaggerated startle responses and self talk that is effective while vacillating between toxic and grandiose. …

Napoleon Wells

I am a Clinical Psychologist, husband and father, Professor, lover of all things Star Wars, Wakandan refugee, TEDx performer, and believer in human potential

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